Silver Lining
by TheGoddessofDeath
Summary: Gant and Manfred have always been close, and sometimes it's hard to let that go. Gant x Manfred, implied Miles x Franziska. Written for the Kink Meme.


**Silver Lining**

To Damon Gant, there was absolutely no rhyme or reason.

No one knew what made him tick, why he did what he did, and he went to great lengths to keep it that way.

So why he showed up one afternoon at his manor in G_ermany_ Manfred von Karma will undoubtedly never know. "...what are _you_ doing _here_?"

"Now now, Fred! Is that any way to greet your oldest friend? Come, give ol' Damon a hug!"

The prosecutor gave his old friend and work partner a strange look, stepping aside when Damon tried to wrap his arms around him. Unfortunately, that landed him inside the manor and Manfred had no choice but to let him stay for tea, at least.

"Don't touch anything," was all he said to his taller friend, stopping at the banister of the stairs. "Miles, Franziska, ziet für tee!"

After his demand, Manfred walks off and Damon is about to follow him when he hears the beating of feet upon the stairs, a teenager and a young girl appearing as they argue back and forth playfully in the country's native language. Franziska bounds past the stranger without so much as looking at him into the next room. Miles, however, knows Damon and gives him an inquisitive look. "Mister Gant... what are you doing here?"

Before he can receive his answer, however, Manfred is hollering again and he rushes off quickly, and Damon has no choice but to follow.

Tea time takes place on the patio today, the four sitting at a rather extravagant round table as summer flowers shined in every colour of a prism around them. The smell of fresh-cut grass greets their senses and immediately Miles wants to go play tag like a schoolboy. Franziska gives the elder boy a look, furrowing her brow as she finished her tea. "Little brother, all play and no work will not get you anywhere in life."

Damon chuckles to himself as he watches the two talk as Manfred basically ignores them, having heard it all before and in a sour mood, not really wanting to be with company right now.

_"All play and no work will not get you anywhere in life."_

_Green eyes peered at the other from behind spectacles that barely sat on his face, raising an eyebrow. Geez, of all the prosecutors he had to work with, he got _this one_. "That's some greeting for someone you don't even know."_

_"I know you detectives. I know your kind. Loafing around, waiting for orders, an even then you only do them half-assed."_

_The nerve of this guy! "I don't think you should judge me before you know my name, at least."_

_"Decisive evidence is all I need, detective. Not your name."_

_As the haughty prosecutor walked off, he called after him, "It's Gant. Damon Gant."_

_The prosecutor froze, turning back to glare at him. "You also apparently do not listen. Fine. I want the autopsy report on my desk by this evening, detective Gant."_

Damon stole a glance over to Manfred, watching as he sipped his tea and dismissed his children from the table, the two having grown antsy. Even though it has been almost thirty years, Manfred still has that beauty to him when he met him. His attention turns back to the two youngsters whom have run off to play in the grass, Miles swinging his sister around happily and the two tumbling in the grass despite Manfred's yelling from them to stop of they'll get grass stains on their clothes.

_"So, what's your take on American food?"_

_Manfred frowned at the taller male at his side, giving him a "you cannot be serious" look. "I think it's all slop. No wonder all you Americans are fat. You eat garbage."_

_Damon laughed, shaking his head. "Fred, Fred, Fred. You just haven't eaten the right stuff! That's why you got your ol' pal Damon here, or else you'd be stuck with just that!"_

_The prosecutor chuckles, crossing his arms. He and the detective are sitting on a bench, supposedly going over evidence for a case the next day, and here he is talking about American cuisine. "I think you just want to take me to dinner."_

_It had been a year since the two had started working together, and as much as Manfred did not want to admit it, he and detective Gant had become inseparable friends. _

_"I'll take that as a yes, then?"_

_It earned him another smirk. "I suppose you do owe me for that slip up of yours in the last case..."_

_Damon couldn't help but smile back sheepishly, looking up to the clouds in the sky. "They're all wrong about you, Mister von Karma. You're the nicest guy I know."_

Where had things gone so horribly wrong?

Damon had never thought about it extensively, since he was trying to move on with his life.

Miles and Franziska had calmed down a bit, Manfred having threatened them with beatings if they didn't stop their foolishness. So now they're sitting in the middle of the backyard, Franziska weaving clovers together into a tiara and putting it on Miles' head.

"You can be the king, and I can be the queen!" he hears her say as she puts on her own tiara, taking his hand and giggling as she stands up and drags him off to another part of the yard to start building their kingdom.

_Years had gone by. They're coming up on a decade of working together, countless cases handled thanks to their work together._

_Still, Damon recently had found that he could not keep his eyes off the dark-haired prosecutor. _

_Sure, they had become close and spent a considerable amount of time together. But lately Manfred had been going back and forth to Germany quite frequently, sometimes staying for many days._

_He always claimed it was for work. Damon believed him._

_It would be the one thing he would never forgive himself for if he did not tell him soon... let his heart ache a bit longer... he couldn't take it anymore._

_Needless to say, Manfred was a bit surprised when he saw his best friend at the airport when he came back from one of excursions to Germany. "Damon, what are you-"_

_And before he could finish the other had strode over to him and kissed him full on._

_Manfred would have minded a bit less if they weren't out in public. He shoved the taller male away from him, scowling. "What the hell's gotten into you?"_

_"Look, I know I don't have a lot," he said with a love struck grin. "But I could give you what you need. Someone to come home to, someone to make you dinner, someone to spend time with. Fred, please..."_

_The prosecutor gave his friend a blank stare before turning and walking in the opposite direction._

_"Fred, wait!" Damon said urgently, running toward him to block his path. "Wait. I didn't mean..."_

_"Why now."_

_Damon was taken aback by his tone, the look in his eyes. "Fred, what do you..."_

_"Damon, I'm engaged."_

To this day, Damon remembers how his heart fell to the bottom of his stomach, shattered into a million pieces and how hard it was to watch Manfred walk off. How the next day, he was assigned to a new prosecutor to work under and the male he had loved ran back home without much notice.

How after that all he heard were rumours. When Manfred became a father for the first time three years later, Damon became depressed and fell behind in his work, despite his determination to move up in his rankings.

His attention turns back to Miles and Franziska, the two now talking quietly amongst themselves. Probably reviewing things they had learned that morning from their readings, he muses. Under Manfred's watchful eye they are very strict and serious. What a fine prosecution team they would make.

But when their father looks away he sees it: that look in the young girl's eyes as she looks up to him, the way he looks at her. He'll be damned if in fifteen years those two aren't standing in front of an altar together exchanging vows.

He can only hope, seeing as they are two interlocking pieces that are afraid to connect. He hopes they don't end up like him, losing what they had all along because of pride and naivete.

And he would offer them his words of wisdom, but they are still young. They still have time to explore themselves and each other. So for now he'll stay quiet and stay besides an irate Manfred, because, after all, that's where he belongs. At least for this afternoon.


End file.
